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“We’re your family, Kenny. The only family you have.”
The quiet intensity behind her words stopped him in his tracks. He looked back and forth between them and felt rattled. He’d seen those stubborn, worried expressions on their faces before, but he hadn’t taken them in, not like he did now. He saw concern there, and caring . . . even from Shelby, his father’s too-young bride, who, despite everything, was starting to seem like another sister. And maybe having another sister wasn’t the worst thing that could happen to him. He loved Torie and, in his own way, he guessed he was starting to feel the same about Shelby. She sure was a good mother. And she’d made his dad happy.
His father slipped his arm around Shelby’s waist, and Kenny felt as if he were staring into a mirror. All his life he’d heard how much he and his old man looked alike, but now he could see it for himself. And as he gazed into that older, but still familiar face, he finally understood exactly how a man could screw things up for somebody he loved, not meaning to, just being stupid.
He drew a deep, shaky breath. He couldn’t explain any of this to his father right now, although he’d have to find a way to do it later, so he just nodded and headed for the patio. But when he got there, he discovered he was in for one more shock in a day full of surprises.
“Boys they wanna have fun. Oh, yeah! Boys, they wanna have fun.” Torie stood in the middle of the patio swinging Petie around in her arms and singing to him with this smile spread all over her face. Petie was laughing to beat the band while Dex sat on one of the banquettes with a beer in his hand and a grin that stretched from one ear to the other. As Kenny absorbed the change in his sister—the same sister who’d barely been able to look at that little baby boy—he had this crazy urge to kiss Dex smack on the lips, just as Emma’d kissed Torie.
His sister saw him in the doorway and stopped swinging Petie. Petie let out a deep baby-chuckle as he spotted him. Warren and Shelby came out to the patio. His father walked over to the tray of drinks that had been set up, while Shelby sat on the banquette, pulled her knees up to her chest, and watched Kenny with anxious eyes. They were all gathering around to help him straighten out his life. Just yesterday the idea would have driven him insane, but now it was almost comforting.
Petie extended his chubby arms toward his brother and let out a demanding squeal. Torie came forward, her expression as worried as Shelby’s. Kenny took the baby, but his eyes remained riveted on his sister. “Where is she?”
“You screwed up bad this time, Kenny. She’s really leaving.”
“No, she’s not,” he said stonily.
“She’s made her plane reservations. Shelby and I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is. What took you so damn long to get here?”
“I was looking all over the place for her, and I didn’t get your message until a few minutes ago.” He dodged the wet fist the baby was trying to shove in his mouth. “Tell me where she is.”
“Inside calling Patrick and asking him to pack up her things,” Shelby said from the banquette. “We told her she needed to go back to the ranch first and discuss this with you, but she said there wasn’t any need, that even if she tried to talk to you, you’d refuse to talk back.”
That stung because he understood exactly what Emma meant. He spun toward the door to go and find her, only to come to a dead halt as he saw that she was already here.
She stared at him without saying a word, and the chill in her eyes went straight to his bloodstream. She was giving him her schoolteacher’s stare, a stare that told him, plain as anything, he might not be suspended from the tour any longer, but he’d been suspended from her life.
He realized he’d started to sweat through his golf shirt again. This was one hard-eyed woman. A woman who’d been done wrong by her man a time too many. And all because it had taken him too long to say the words he’d refused to let out of his heart.
“Sweetheart?” His tentative tone made him sound like a wimp, but he was no fool, and he knew she needed to be approached cautiously.
She blinked her eyes, drew back her shoulders, and shot up her chin. “Ah, Kenny.” Then she barreled forward, all full of dangerous business, and even though she wasn’t carrying her umbrella, he could feel the tip plunging straight into his groin. “I’m delighted you showed up. It saves me having to write a note.”
A note? She’d planned to leave him a note? He started to fume all over again.
“Patrick’s bringing over my things, and I’ve spoken with Ted. He agreed to drive me to San Antonio.”
That little prick.
“Of course, since you seem to own this town and everybody in it, neither of them will do what I asked, so I’ve also called a car service. Once I get packed and arrive in San Antonio, I’m catching a short flight to Dallas, and I’ll be out of your hair in no time.” She brushed her hands together . . . brushing him right out of her life. “That should do it. Sorry things didn’t work out. As soon as I get settled, I’ll send you my address so we can straighten out any annoying legal business.”
And then she stuck out her hand, actually stuck out her hand for him to shake.
“Uh-oh.”
Emma heard Torie’s muttered warning, saw fireworks go off in Kenny’s eyes, and realized she’d pushed him too far with the handshake. But she’d been determined to go out with her dignity waving like a Union Jack in the wind.
He thrust Peter into Torie’s arms, then his fingers manacled her wrist. “If y’all don’t mind excusing us, my wife and I have some business to conduct in private.”
He spoke in a menacing drawl, with an extra bite on the word wife. She started to dig in her heels, but he was already dragging her toward a gate in the middle of the back wall. Her former friend, the traitorous Dexter O’Conner, rushed ahead of him to open it.
Kenny pulled her into a small, shady garden with a wedge of lawn to one side and a swimming pool just beyond. Then he backed her right against a tree.
“You’re not doing this, Emma. I swear to God, I’m not letting you throw away a good solid marriage just because you’ve got yourself in a snit over the way I’ve screwed up.”
A good, solid marriage? His audacity nearly took her breath away.
“You should know me well enough by now to know I always screw up when it comes to you. And exactly what kind of marriage are we going to have if you decide to run home to England every time that happens? You’d be gone most of the month.”
